


Between Your Smiles And Regrets

by anarchy_at12



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Cute Ending, Developing Relationship, Early Days, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), M/M, Nervousness, Romantic Friendship, Running Away, Sneaking Out, Trust Issues, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchy_at12/pseuds/anarchy_at12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete convinces Patrick to sneak out with him and it leads to an unexpected destination and unexpected emotions.</p><p>Loosely based off of the song Calm Before The Storm by Fall Out Boy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Your Smiles And Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Fall Out Boy, blah blah blah, if you send this to Patrick I will lose all my chill

"Can I come over?"

Patrick sighed into the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "It's late dude. I don't wanna get in trouble."

" _Triiiiick_ ," Pete drawled. Patrick could imagine him sitting on the couch, watching tv, only half paying attention to the conversation. That's what Pete did, he was like a drug addict, only instead of jonesing for another dose of pills he vied for someone to come an relieve his boredom. "C'mon. I wanna take you somewhere. Pleeeeease."

Patrick sighed again. "Okay fine. But if I get caught-"

"Dude. Chill. Just go out the back door, it shuts quieter."

"Fine. Yeah, ok."

Pete hung up. Patrick looked at the clock on the oven, 2:16am. Pete would be there in seven minutes flat. He knows because he used to time him.

Patrick put on his shoes and slipped a hoodie over his head, then sat on the edge of the chair in the kitchen next to the back door, flipping through his phone while he waited for Pete to text him to alert him of his arrival. The clock read 2:22. His phone buzzed in his palm. He stepped into the night and locked the door behind him.

He made his way to the front yard, biting his lip as he walked towards the truck where Pete was waiting with his lights on. He climbed into the passenger side, and he was sure his heartbeat matched the pace of the Metallica song filling in the background.

"Hey," Patrick breathed, still a little shaky from the cold, or maybe it was his nerves. He could see it now: his dad yelling at him, face red and veins popping as his mother looked at him disapprovingly from behind. He prayed to the clouds the sound of the back gate closing hadn't been as loud as it seemed.

"Hey yourself," Pete smiled before shifting out of park and into drive. The car moved forward, and they were off. 

"So, uh," Patrick started, scratching his neck and bouncing his knee,"where are we going?"

"You'll see," Pete answered, and Patrick looked at him with _oh no_ written all over his face, and Pete? Pete just grinned, that shit eating grin that told you that he was up to no good and he fucking _knew_ it. 

Pete laughed, chest bouncing and pushing against the steering wheel as he turned out of the neighborhood. "Relax, 'Trick, it's nothing crazy. Or dangerous. Just trust me for once in your life."

"God forbid," Patrick muttered under his breath, but apparently because Pete slapped his shoulder and laughed again and okay, Patrick was laughing a little too now. 

Somewhere along the way of streetlights and highways Patrick's leg stopped bouncing and the anxious throbbing in his chest ceased to a gentle squeeze in the background and he fell asleep to the sound of Blink-182 and Pete rambling about a triple murder he heard about in the news.

When he woke up, it was to the sun glowing orange and purple over a calm lake that reflected the painting of a sky. The first thing he thought was _oh my god_ , and the first thing he said was,"where in the fuck are w-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're fine," Pete soothed, leaning over to him with a hand on the space below his collarbone and above his breast and he had to blink from confusion. "We're at Lake Chicago."

And _holy shit_ , Patrick thought because they had school and his parents and they were _so far_ and-

"Don't worry, I called the school to say you were sick and I'll have you back before your parents will even think to worry. I got it all figured out. Just look."

Patrick followed Pete's hand to where it was pointing to the sunrise, and yeah, okay, this was better than school. He steadied his breath and swallowed his nerves, melting into the seat more with every minute as he woke himself up. "You're such a hopeless damn romantic," Patrick breathed, because no matter how nice this was, it was so damn cheezy. Not that he was complaining though.

"Yeah, but it makes you money, so hush." 

He did.

After a while, when the sky settled to light blue and the clouds came in, Patrick cleared his throat and felt doubt sink back into his bloodstream. "So, um. What are we gonna do for the rest of the day..?"

Pete looked back at him, shrugging his right shoulder and licking his lips. "I dunno. Just thought we'd spend the day in the city, its be cool. If you want to, of course."

Patrick nodded, and in the lighting he could really see what he found in Pete: the way his beanie was pulled too far over his head, the way his jacket brought out the whole skinny-sad-boy aesthetic he had going on, the way his eyes gleamed in the light and were about two and a half shades darker than his skin. That's what girls see in him, he thought. "Yeah," he said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "That sounds nice."

Pete smiled sitting back and kicking the car into reverse to pull out and onto the road. "But first: breakfast!"

_Look at how far we've come_  
And so we always come undone  
Maybe that's how it always has to be... 

_\- Talking by The Descendants_

"You know," Patrick said over his coffee,"this is really nice."

"Really?" Pete said excitedly, his eyebrows and the corners of his lips perking up. It made Patrick smile. 

"Yeah, really." He took a bite of his sand which and leaned back in the metal patio chair, feeling cool air wash over his face and feeling greatful Pete chose to eat outside. "I kinda don't want to leave."

They both laughed softly at the notion that something so good could ever last. They both knew it; everything goes away. 

Pete linked his feet with Patrick's under the table, snapping him out of his daydream. "Maybe we could do this another time then?" He chided hopefully.

Patrick looked up, smiling again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." 

Pete sat with his elbows on the table, having finished his slice of pumpkin spice bread and his mocha running low, and when Patrick took the last bite of his meal and they were both full and comfortable, there was a mutual feeling of "Starbucks is a godsend" between them.

They threw out their trash and decided that they'd better be getting back home, so they walked down the avenue hand in hand, both sort of bummed that it had to end even though they knew full well it had too. 

They hopped into the car, saying goodbye to the city in hopes they'd meet again. Patrick had just finished buckling his seatbelt when he heard Pete say quietly, "hey." Patrick looked up, a bit confused, but his confusion only grew as he felt Pete's lips on his before he could even recognize that he had leaned in and _oh_. Okay. This, this was nice.

Just as soon as it happened it had ended though, and Pete looked forward and jabbed the keys into the ignition, stuttering words that probably weren't even part of sentences. Patrick noticed how red Pete's cheeks were, and judging by the burning in his chest and face, he assumed his were the same. He was going to say something, but Pete cranked up the radio before he could even think, so he just smiled out the window and watched buildings pass by.

Yeah. This was definitely going to have to happen again. 

Soon.


End file.
